


Assorted Cheetah Drabbles

by CavannaRose



Series: Cheetah Fics [4]
Category: Wonder Woman (Comics)
Genre: Bugs & Insects, Drabble Collection, Fear, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6693907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bits of RP and stories featuring one of my favourite female villains, too short for their own posting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Barbara picked her pathway carefully, desperate not to hear the shudder-some crunch of chitin beneath her bare feet. There were so many creepy crawlies scuttling about, the thought of all that filth and foul disease stiffening her spine. With difficulty caused by her nervously slow and steady steps, she made it to the place where the shadowy figure had been ensconced, but there was nothing. Cheetah's nostrils flared, trying to catch even the faintest hint of her tormentor's scent, but it was as if she had gone nose blind.

The felonious feline relied on her heightened senses for almost everything, losing access to any of them crippled her, the first true ripples of fear causing her tail to twitch side to side in anxious agitation. It was simply unbearable, to have nothing more than human perception while still trapped in her monstrous transformed body. She made a great show of adoring who she was, but the appeal faded when the fringe benefits disappeared.

A low level growl rumbled continuously through her chest, both self-soothing and a warning to all that she was on edge. She was a predator for the love of fuck, not prey! Raking her claws defiantly down a wall, leaving thick gouges to mark her displeasure, she let out a primal roar of rage and fear. Turning to the left-most hallway, she threw herself down it, racing blindly towards whatever awaited her.

A low hiss escaped Barbara's lips, ending in a throaty growl as she came to a halt mid-stride, head swinging around to place where Crane's voice was coming from now. She was irate about the predicament she had found herself in, more so because of the figure that had caught her up. Every hair of fur on her body stood on end, and her feet constantly shifted in an attempt to avoid the disgusting insects scuttling across the floor in this particularly horrid little nightmare.

The man who called himself Scarecrow was a menace, and a disgrace to the scientific and criminal community, as far as she was concerned. He was supposed to be far more clever than most of the Bat's cadre of crazies. Who targeted other criminals though? Was he trying to do the heros' work for them? Not only that, but in her books he was a coward, hiding behind his drugs and dreams like a little boy with a magnifying glass on a sunny day.

She knew, at the root of her, that his world of hallucinations wasn't real, but her brain wasn't listening to reason right now. She clawed the air in front of her with another roar of outrage as the fake image of Crane's stupid bag-covered head rushed at her. She tripped as it dissipated, landing on her knees in a mound of squirming, multi-legged bugs. A shriek echoed in the strange hallway, fear sweeping over her.


	2. Chapter 2

A man who lost as graciously as her current card partner was a rare find indeed. He certainly made passing the evening in this bloody ghastly place far more enjoyable than she had thought it would be. She listened to the smooth, accented cadence of his voice, ears perked forward with both interest and pleasure. His dulcet tones soothed her inner kitty, quieting that primal urge that curled in the pit of her stomach. Speech patterns like that, they pulled you in, a proper charmer for certain, and one with an enviable amount of calm.

"I must confess with great chagrin, I cannot take as much pleasure from losing as you seem to have. Though it is certainly not the company. I suppose that makes me doubly glad that I hold the victory thus far. My own personal motto runs along the lines of 'If you're not cheating to win, you're not trying hard enough.' But then again, a cat likes her mouse."

She flashed her fangs at the Cajun again, pure pleasure on her face. She was almost tempted to tease him further, play out the scene and see where it would lead them, the man was certainly handsome enough. Barbara resisted the urge, though, because the faintest scent of another woman clung to his person. She might be a thief, and a good one, but she was not a poacher, nor did she pick up the leftovers of other. His company here would be as far as this particular pleasure extended, and she didn't have any regrets.

"Care to try your luck a second time, Monsieur? Or shall we quit while I'm ahead?"


End file.
